


go ahead and cry

by potterheading



Series: i'm not angry anymore (well, sometimes i am) universe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Lucius Malfoy, Bad Parent Lucius Malfoy, Dark Draco Malfoy, Dark Harry Potter, M/M, Murder, Not Beta Read, Patricide, Revenge, Torture, Violence, be gay do crime, lowercase intended, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-25 20:48:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potterheading/pseuds/potterheading
Summary: “did you -” he starts, before faltering and looking down, as if he can’t bring himself to say the words. he had just told his father how much he hated him, but harry knew that deep down, draco still loved him, and probably always would. he understood it, this complicated relationship with the men they had looked up to all of their lives. true hatred simply wasn’t possible, not with the past being what it was.-in which draco and harry confront lucius malfoy.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Series: i'm not angry anymore (well, sometimes i am) universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2213598
Kudos: 14





	go ahead and cry

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for clicking! 
> 
> this work is apart of the "I'm not angry anymore (well, sometimes i am)" series - a collection that features a dark drarry confronting their past demons together. there will be an additional piece that is directly related to this one (somewhat of a prequel), and it will be posted sometime in the next week. this can be read as a stand-alone, although there might be some confusion in certain parts.
> 
> title from daddy issues by the neighborhood... that'll make sense in a minute ha
> 
> cw for violence, murder, and general angst
> 
> all kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc are heavily appreciated!

there were a great many things that harry did not understand about the wizarding world, like where food came from when it was summoned, why the money system was so bloody confusing, where things went when they were banished. he didn’t understand why wizards insisted on wearing horribly old-fashioned robes, even in the dead of summer, and why there wasn’t some sort of support system for muggle-borns being integrated into wizarding culture. 

another thing he didn’t understand - pureblood culture. 

he didn’t understand why they acted like royalty, or why everyone else allowed them to. why they were still so invested in the whole blood purity thing when most of them had enough money to still be extremely powerful in wizarding society without all of the inbreeding and disowning business. why they were so stupidly strict, and continuously limited themselves to empty lives full of money but devoid of happiness for very unclear reasons. 

draco had tried to explain parts of it to harry, early on in their relationship, but had quickly given up when harry’s eyes had glazed over and had become more interested in trying to tug off draco’s top. even now, years later, he still didn’t understand. 

since their fateful dinner, draco had stopped communicating with his father entirely, and seemed to only receive correspondence from his mother on occasion. the letters always came after nightfall, and were short and straight to the point. draco had expressed his worry once, but then quickly brushed off his worries with a murmur about paranoia and delusions, before curling into harry’s side and quickly falling asleep. 

_“he’s probably brainwashing her as we speak,” draco had murmured one day, holding a short letter to his chest. “turning her against us. soon we won’t have either of their approval.”_

_“we don’t need their approval, draco.” harry had responded softly, pushing a strand of hair from draco’s face. “we only need each other.”_

_“yes, true” draco smiled, leaning into harry’s_ _touch. “it would still be nice to have though, don’t you think?”_

they had been making breakfast when the owl came. 

draco stood at the sink, manually cracking eggs into a bowl, while harry had leaned heavily onto the counter and tried not to fall back asleep. draco hummed to himself softly as he vanished the egg shells until something outside of the window caught his eye. he squinted as the owl came closer, his eyebrows furrowed curiously. draco opened the window just as the large bird came to a rest on the sill, blinking patiently at them. its body was covered in black and grey feathers, and it’s beak was a bright yellow.

later, harry would learn that these particular owls were as dark an omen as the grim itself. they had many names in wizarding society - morning birds, mourning birds, couriers of death, and so on and so forth. 

most witches and wizards opted to use them - it could be written into a will that following the death or prolonged absence of a magical signature, a notice of their death would be sent out to all friends and family the following morning, hence the name. this was yet another one of the concepts in wizarding society that harry had been ignorant about. draco, on the other hand, was very familiar. 

a soft gasp left his lips as he stared at the owl - and harry opened one eye. 

“whazzat?” he murmured sleepily. “someone get a new bird?” 

“it’s a mourning bird,” draco whispered, drying his slightly shaking hands on a towel. “someone’s died…” 

“what?” harry perked up, sitting up completely now. “who?” 

“i - i don’t know, i’ll check.” with one hand, draco began to fumble with the thong wrapped around the foot of the bird, and absently fed it a strip of bacon with the other. 

from harry’s perspective, the entire thing had happened in almost slow motion. he had watched as draco untied the letter and opened it, his hands shaking minutely. his face had been pinched - his forehead creased and his nose scrunched adorably, the way it always did when he focused hard on something. when he had finally gotten it open, his eyes had scanned it slowly - left to right, and then again and again until - 

harry registered the exact moment that draco realized - his eyes widened dramatically and a shaky gasp exploded from him, and then he was clutching the letter in his fists, reading it over, and over, and over again. shaking his head no, whimpering softly - again and again _no, no, no, not her - no,_

he sunk to the floor, still murmuring to himself, clutching the letter close to his chest, shaking and wailing and utterly falling apart, right there on the kitchen floor. 

“draco,” harry said softly, sitting beside him and wrapping his arms around his trembling body. “draco, baby -” 

“ _mum_ ,” he practically screamed, the word tearing its way out of his mouth as if it were actually painful. a chill ran through harry’s body, magnified by the force of draco’s cries, as he sobbed for his mother again and again, to no avail. “my mum - she…” 

  
  


“lucius,” harry murmured, simply because he didn’t know what else to say. “why wouldn’t he say anything - god, draco, i’m sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” 

“he killed her,” draco spat, inhaling shakily. “i know he did.” 

“what?” nobody hated lucius more than harry did, but killing his own wife was extreme, even for him. 

“it’s because of me,” draco whispered, his tears subsiding slightly. “she kept speaking to me - even after he cast me aside… she went against his orders with every letter. god, she risked her life for me!” 

“this isn’t your fault, draco,” harry murmured, pulling draco into his lap. he went easily, burying his face in harry’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around his neck. “you haven’t done anything wrong.” 

“he’s not getting away with this,” draco snapped, although it’s intensity was lost with the force of his cry. “he won’t.” 

harry didn’t know what to say, so he rubbed a gentle circle into draco’s back and held him close, feeling each tremble and sob that left draco’s body. harry had, never once, been grateful for the loss of his own parents. he felt their absence everyday in small, manageable ways. losing them so early, after just barely having them, had left him with almost no real connection to his parents. he missed them, not as people, but as concepts. he craved the idea of a mother’s love from lily - but not necessarily lily’s love - for he had never truly experienced it in a way that he could explain to someone else - like a kiss on the forehead, or a warm hug on a long day. but here, sitting on the floor with draco malfoy as he fell apart, aching so desperately for narcissa, harry is terribly, terribly appreciative that this specific type of heartbreak is one that he had managed to miss.

_mum,_ draco sobs, over and over again, _mum, mum, mum, mum_ \- he says it as if it’ll bring her back, as if he’ll open his eyes and see narcissa malfoy hovering over him, her familiar but uncanny smile stretched across her lips. but he won’t. draco knows this, and the realisation bursts through him, tearing him apart piece by piece. 

harry holds him through it all, keeping all of draco’s shattered pieces in one place, if only so that he can put them back together later. 

  
\- 

in the week between narcissa’s death and her funeral, draco mostly sleeps around the house. occasionally, harry would also catch him staring out of a window blankly, his eyes bloodshot and damp. he never seemed to want to talk much, but he still clung to harry like a koala when he was home, always pressing his face into his neck, or wrapping his arms around his waist. 

“are you doing alright?” harry would ask when he would come home from work, bending over draco wherever he was, either in their bed or on the sofa or (one time) on the floor. he would push a strand of hair behind draco’s ear and gently trace his jaw, tipping his chin up for a slow kiss. he would nod most days, but had also, once or twice, shaken his head no and moved aside for harry to climb beneath the sheets with him. harry would hold him, pressing his face into the nape of draco’s neck and inhaling deeply. 

on the day of the funeral, draco pulled himself out of bed and dressed in an expensive pair of formal black robes. he used a glamour to conceal his puffy eyes and took a few deep breaths to steady himself, before pressing a kiss to harry’s lips and disappearing through the floo. by the time harry tumbled out of the floo and into malfoy manor, draco had already transformed into a completely different person, his head held high and a blank but proud expression on his face. when witches and wizards approach him for conversation or to express their condolences, draco entertained them effortlessly and graciously, smiling and shaking hands throughout the entire affair. during the actual ceremony, he stood stoically in the front row, with harry at his side. there were no displays of emotion, no tears or heartfelt speeches from anyone in attendance, and it gave harry the creeps. in a tiny moment of weakness, draco grabbed harry’s hand, squeezing it tightly and inhaling a shaky breath. 

and then, draco had caught his father’s eye, and his lip had curled in disapproval. draco had dropped harry’s hand, and harry made a silent vow fuck draco in one of the rooms of the manor as soon as he got the chance, just to spite him. draco had remained stubbornly impassive for the rest of the ceremony, a grim smile on his face up until the moment he had disappeared through the floo. harry stepped through after him once more, sticking the landing only marginally better than he had that morning. 

“harry,” draco gasps, as soon as he’s through. he reaches out for harry blindly, tearing at his necktie with a trembling hand. “harry, _god,”_ harry doesn’t hesitate to take draco into his arms, holding him close as he sobs wildly - large, gulping cries that rattled his entire body. “ _it’s not fair_ , he gets to pretend to grieve, as if he didn’t _kill_ her -”

narcissa’s death had turned up inconclusive - and the magical examiners hadn’t detected any signs of foul play, even when harry had requested that they run all of the scans multiple times. her cause of death had been classified as natural causes, despite being a generally healthy woman, and her case had been closed. the department, and the rest of the world, had moved on to the next interesting thing. 

draco had not. 

“tomorrow,” he choked, his nails digging painfully into harry’s arms as he leaned heavily into him, staggering under the weight of his own grief. “tomorrow, we’ll go.” 

“tomorrow,” harry repeated softly, stroking draco’s hair. 

“tomorrow,” draco said again, looking up at harry through damp eyes. “but for now, can you just… can you just stay?” 

harry stayed. 

  
  


\- 

the next night, they pass through the floo to malfoy manor - draco, with his face set in a grim, determined line. harry, supportive and equally determined, followed close behind him. 

they found lucius in his study, nursing a snifter of some dark liquid and looking generally malevolent. he seemed to have been expecting them, based on the lazy way he cocked an eyebrow and looked up at them through his eyelashes . 

“draco,” he drawled softly, taking a slow draw from his glass. “i was wondering how long it would take you to burst into my home. you know you aren’t welcome here anymore.” 

“father,” draco said shakily, and harry resisted the urge to reach out and grab his hand. “you know why i’m here.” 

lucius simply cocked an eyebrow and stared over at them with general disgust. 

“what did you do to my mother?” draco stepped forward, his chin still raised despite the slight wobble in his voice. “what spell did you use on her, father?”

“i’m sure potter here has already shown you the report,” lucius said dryly, “your mother died of natural causes.” 

“that’s a lie!” draco shouted, already losing his composure. he stalked forward, slamming his palms on the surface of lucius’ oversized wooden desk. “you killed my mother - your wife! how could you?” 

“you have no proof,” lucius said wickedly, leaning forward in his seat, as if to taunt draco. “no evidence that i ever raised my wand against narcissa.” 

“you _sick bastard_ -”

  
“besides,” lucius continues, an evil smile spreading across his face. “your aunt bellatrix was wrong about many things… but she was very, very right about the importance of unity in a family. personally, i’d rather have no family than a disloyal one. surely you’ve learned that by now, draco? or must i continue to teach you the same lesson - the one that i’ve been trying to teach you since you were a child? _family is everything_. the moment you learn this, your life will become so much easier.”

draco doesn’t respond - instead, he flinches backwards and hangs his head, obviously overcome with emotion. unwilling to resist the temptation anymore, harry moved forward to place a gentle hand on the small of his back, glaring at lucius over his shoulder. lucius stares back at him, a terrible smirk on his face. 

“draco, do you ever plan on fighting your own battles?” he sneers, “or do you always need potter to come to your defense and get you out of sticky situations? you are truly pathetic, nothing like -” 

_“leave him out of this!”_ draco roars, shoving harry away and drawing his wand. his voice trembles, but his wand hand remains steady and trained on his father. 

“do you think you can duel me, boy?” lucius goads, finishing off his drink and rising from his seat slowly, also drawing his wand. “and win? i guess you’ve taken more than one thing from potter… this gryffindorian recklessness. you’ll soon realize that not everyone has the same astronomical luck as your _consort_ here. you won’t come out of this alive, draco.” 

as soon as the last word was uttered, draco was off, casting spell after spell at his father. lucius quickly returns the favor, muttering spells under his breath and casting wordlessly, slowly easing his way out from behind the desk and advancing towards draco. they don’t seem to be wasting time with dramatic, showy spells, instead using quick, direct spells obviously intended to hurt or incapacitate the other. 

with each spell, draco’s face becomes creased with effort, his voice thick with emotion. lucius, on the other hand, remains stoic and cold, casting with a practiced dexterity and impassiveness, as if he isn’t dueling his own child. harry stands aside, watching the duel anxiously, his hand trained on his own wand. he knows that draco can hold his own and that he’s talented and angry enough to take his father down - but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. each time harry tries to step in, when he sees draco hesitate or pause for a moment, draco shouts at him to move back, sending him back into the wall with a wave of magic. 

and then a triumphant grin crosses lucius’ face, and he flicks his wand at draco with hardly a whisper. draco sinks to the floor, dropping his own wand as his hands claw at his throat, gasping desperately for breath. horrified, harry steps forward and sends lucius flying backward, into a bookshelf, before binding and stunning him on the ground. he turns to draco, who is already struggling to his feet, still breathing heavily.

“draco,” harry says, moving forward quickly. he wraps his arms around him and pulls him to his feet, holding him close. draco trembles in his arms, quick, shallow breaths escaping him rapidly. “love, are you okay?” 

“fine,” he wheezes into harry’s neck, his warm breath ghosting across harry’s skin. “i’m fine.” 

after a few moments, he pulls away, obviously having pulled himself together. draco turns and summons his wand into his hand, his face melting into a determined line once more. he begins casting again - this time, spells that harry doesn’t recognize… dark, foreign spells. lucius sobs and writhes with pain on the ground, his body contorting under draco’s ministrations. the spells draco uses are decidedly horrific, and harry makes a mental note to ask draco when and where he learned so many terrible spells. harry hears all of the bones in lucius’ body break with a deafening snap, before healing all at once in an undoubtedly painful second. he chokes on his own tongue, practically going blue as he struggles to breathe, and then begins bleeding from his nose, lips, and eyes uncontrollably. 

as draco casts, his voice become hoarser and more wild with each spell. he trembles with each wand movement, his chest heaving with suppressed sobs as he forces himself to keep control. harry stands beside him, practically hold him up as his body sags under the strength of his magic and the force of his anguish. by the end, draco is fully sobbing as he leans into harry, his wand shaking too much for him to continue casting. 

lucius stills as draco stops, gasping for breath and glaring over at both of them, the disgust and hatred clear on his face. 

“you _killed my mum_ ,” draco whispers, pointing his wand at lucius with weak fingers. harry watches him - despite being damp with tears, draco’s eyes sparkle with passion. there’s no doubt that in this moment, he’s completely capable of bringing lucius to an end, forever. “i hate you, father,” he spits. but then, he drops his hand and turns away, hanging his head. “i can’t - i can’t be like him. i won’t be like him. harry, i - i can’t do this.” 

understanding passes over harry, and he nods. 

“i’ll do it,” harry says evenly, rubbing a gentle circle into draco’s back. “you go ahead, love. i’ll find you when i’m done.” 

draco turns and takes one last long at his father, before glancing up at harry. his eyes are still damp, swimming with unshed tears, and his nose and lips are a soft pink. harry pulls him in for a gentle kiss, his palm coming to rest on his cheek. then, draco pulls away and sweeps from the room, pulling the door shut behind him. 

“hmph,” harry says softly, turning and walking slowly towards lucius. “just me and you now, huh, lucius?” he looks down at lucius, who doesn’t speak or move. “i’ve thought a lot about how i want to kill you. not _avada_ … too fast, too painless. more than you deserve, frankly. nothing magical, actually - it feels much too easy for someone as terrible as you. you know what would be ironic, though? lucius malfoy - the biggest blood supremacist north of the equator, suffocated in his bed like a common muggle. 

“i’ve done a fair bit of research on this, i hope you don’t mind if i ramble a bit. you won’t die immediately - it’ll take about five to six minutes for you to actually start dying, but every moment before that will be spent in excruciating pain and panic. i won’t be undoing your spells, either, so you won’t be able to move or speak, or really do much of anything at all. every part of your body will be on fire - starting with your throat and your chest, and then eventually spreading to each limb. the lack of oxygen in your brain might cause a seizure, coma, unconsciousness, along with a handful of other side-effects, but, you musn’t worry about any of that. so, i think this is what we’ll be going with today. the last thing you’ll see, other than my wonderful mug, of course, will be the white of your thousand thread count pillowcases. bit sad, isn’t it?

“well, let’s not dally, i’ve got things to do tonight.”

harry flicks his wand and lucius rises into the air, his body hanging limply. a part of harry wants to play with lucius, to toss him about the room and perhaps smack him into some furniture - but harry hadn’t been joking. draco would need his comfort tonight - it wouldn’t do to spend hours teasing lucius. he sets him onto the bed and checks that he’s immobilised - strengthening the spells just in case, before hopping onto the bed himself, crawling over lucius and straddling him. 

he looks down - from this angle, he really does look very much like draco - so much so that it’s easy to believe for a moment that harry’s at home, in his own bed, getting ready to kiss draco goodnight. every feature is nearly identical, save for the eyes. they gleam silver with hatred and evil, things draco hasn’t possessed in years. 

“as you know and loathe,” harry continues, leaning over lucius and dropping his voice to a whisper. “i _am_ harry potter. my name carries a significant amount of weight in most social circles - more than yours does nowadays, at any rate. i know a few people over at the prophet and the quibbler… classmates, friends. i have a feeling that it’ll be up to myself and draco to pick the headline announcing your death. i’m thinking ‘ _heartbroken and desperate lucius malfoy commits suicide in home, leaving entire malfoy fortune to sole heir, draco malfoy’_... what do you think? i’ll have to ask draco, of course, but i have a feeling he’ll be amendable. 

“one more thing, lucius… as head auror, i will make sure that _nobody_ gives your case a second glance. you will die irrelevant, and be quickly forgotten, just as you should be. i’ll make sure that people know narcissa’s name, and that you killed her, and then yourself a week later out of guilt. but not before pledging a few million galleons to muggle-born charities. to atone for some of your sins, i think,” harry laughs to himself lightly, reveling in the genuine panic in lucius’ eyes. “maybe _i_ should work for the prophet. i’m quite good at this, don’t you think?

“i’d say that’s enough small talk,” harry grins, reaching across the bed for a pillow. lucius’ eyes bulge in his skull, as if he hadn’t actually expected harry to carry out his promises. “any last words? no, i didn’t think so. good bye, lucius. see you in hell.” 

lucius, as expected, doesn’t struggle when harry presses the pillow over his face. 

-

he finds draco in a nearby room - smaller than the others but just as extravagant. he assumes it had been narcissa’s dressing room, judging from the elegant looking women’s robes and intricate rose quartz wardrobe draco was sat in front of. he had a small mirror in hand and was gently running his finger along a design on the back. harry can see from the doorway that his hands are still shaking. 

he looks up as he hears harry come in, his eyes just as damp as they had been a few moments ago. he still looks the same, not fundamentally altered in any way, as if he hadn’t just been orphaned at the hands of his partner. 

“did you -” he starts, before faltering and looking down, as if he can’t bring himself to say the words. he had just told his father how much he hated him, but harry knew that deep down, draco still loved him, and probably always would. he understood it, this complicated relationship with the men they had looked up to all of their lives. true hatred simply wasn’t possible, not with the past being what it was. 

“it’s done,” he says gently. eventually, draco will want to see the memory, or know the specifics of how harry killed his father. for now, he needs comfort, and harry is prepared to give it to him. 

“do you think that i could take these home?” draco asks, his voice still wavering. he gestures to the mirror in his hand, and an equally intricate comb and brush set on the vanity. he can still see a strand of blonde hair in the comb, and his heart squeezes for both draco and narcissa. “i know that i’ll probably be able to claim the property in my own name sometime soon, but these were my mothers and i don’t want to wait, and i -” 

“of course, draco,” harry interrupts. he’s willing to give draco anything he needs, whether that means carrying him home bridal style right now, or slaughtering every other pureblood in a hundred mile radius. “take anything you need.”

draco smiles appreciatively and stands, hugging his items close to his chest. he looks sad, so sad, and it breaks harry’s heart. he holds out a hand for draco to take, and he does. 

“let’s go home, love.”

together, they leave the manor, hand-in-hand.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! 
> 
> this isn't a personal favorite of mine but i really wanted to write something in which draco confronts lucius. i feel like their relationship is very complicated, and the epitome of love/hate.
> 
> that's it from me, the next update to this series should be posted within the next few days! 
> 
> as per usual, all kudos, comments, bookmarks, etc are heavily appreciated!


End file.
